


Vargen och Krigaren

by Ivartheboneme



Series: Ivar x Ylva [2]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: About 100 litres to be more specific, Bathing in blood, Blood, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, POV First Person, Revenge, Sexual Content, lots of blood, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme
Summary: I got tagged in a tumblr post by kristabec. It involved a hexbomb and a prompt about bathing in blood with our dear Viking prince. I based this on an alternative plan that I had for Ylva's revenge in Keeping promises but it can be read separately.Please note that for all of my works that have sexual content, all relevant characters are at least 18 years old. If they are not yet 18 in canon, I age them up.





	Vargen och Krigaren

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keeping promises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490925) by [Ivartheboneme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme). 



The room is quiet, save for Ivar's heavy breathing and the sound of the liquid dripping into its new containers. Ivar pulls me down onto his lap.

”Look at that. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?” He pants into my ear. I hum in agreement, purposefully shifting on his lap so that I can feel his cock pressing against my ass. He whines loudly and I keep moving, rubbing my soft cheeks against his length quicker and quicker until he grabs my waist forcefully and snarls a warning.

“Sluta. I want to spill inside you.” Turning to glance over my shoulder, I flash him an innocent look. He bares his teeth at me and leans forward, trying to capture my lips in a kiss. I play along and lean into it, only to turn my head away at the last second. Ivar sputters in frustration and I cup his face with my bloodied hands, bringing him close enough to sink my teeth into his bottom lip. He jerks under me as it breaks and I can’t stop myself from giggling at him. His blood tastes divine and he begins to rub the small of my back, a string of whining noises leaving his mouth. He protests weakly as I pull away again and turn my back to him but he soon recovers, finding the hem of my shirt and lifting it slightly so that he can explore my midriff. The soft leather of his braces and the callouses heightens his every touch and I let out a low moan. My eyes almost fall shut, wanting to focus on the sensations my lover is bringing me as his fingers wander further up my body. I force them to stay open because the sight in front of me is simply breathtaking. Five bodies hang from the ceiling: Ælfric, Cenric, Cynebald, Wigmund and Godric. They are upside down, their throats slit, and their crimson blood dripping into the buckets on the floor. I stare at the drops as they fall from the deep slash wounds, entranced by the way they make the surface ripple. Ivar tugs at my hardened nipples, bringing my attention back to him.

“Lilla varg, I don’t think I can wait any longer. Let me take you.” He says, voice filled with need. Min älskade krigare. I deftly undo my trousers and then push myself to standing, never moving my gaze away from the bodies. He understands what I want him to do and I hear the prince shift behind me as he pulls his pants down, freeing his erection. Then one of his hands is at my hip, urging me to sit back down. His tip teases me only for a second before I slide further down on his length.  I sigh as he stretches my cunt, filling me completely and making me feel like a goddess.

 

I sit with my head leaning back against Ivar’s shoulder. The feeling of his seed trickling down my thigh makes me smile softly, in spite of the coldness that is creeping over my bare legs. Ivar sees me shivering.

“Du fryser.” He says, more of a statement than a question.

“Ja.” He nudges at me to make me stand again and my sweet prince helps me dress.

“It’s time, krigaren min.” I say, nodding at the buckets. Ivar lets go of me and I move as quickly as I can with my crutches, eager to carry on. I come to the brothers first. Their faces are so mutilated that most people would no longer be able to tell which is which; but I can. Even as it is masked by the smell of blood, I recognize the distinct odour of Cenric's hair. He'd started going bald early and used some sort of remedy to slow the progress. I know the smell just as well as I know the taste of his brother's cum being forced down my throat. I lean down, movements a bit awkward, and pick up the bucket filled with Cenric's warm blood. Ivar watches me intently, his gaze burning at my skin. The wooden tub stands ready next to Ivar and we exchange a grin as I begin to pour the crimson liquid there, mixing it with the blood of the officers. Ivar had done just what he had promised; he made sure that as many of Ecbert’s officers as possible were spared and when I arrived at the villa after the battle was over he was waiting for me, the men all safely stored in the cells until I wanted to visit them. I was much too tired to attend to the Saxons right away. Instead, I spent what little energy I had on rewarding my warrior prince, praising him while I rode him until we were both completely spent. A few days later we left for Northumbria; Ecbert’s officers packed together in three cages, along with some of the brothers’ men. Our four noble prisoners had been tied up and forced onto one of the wagons, sobbing desperately and begging for someone to end their suffering. Watching them squirm amused me to no end and Ivar took any chance he could to touch me in front of them while I described to him in detail what I wanted to do with the Saxon scum. Once in Northumbria, we only needed to wait a few days before Godric arrived; him and his men had unknowingly ridden right into their doom.

 

As I near the other bucket I slip on the stained floor and nearly fall to my knees. Ivar inhales sharply and I hear the chair creak as he leans forward.

“Careful, älskade.” He cautions. My legs tremble a little but I nod in agreement and straighten my back again; I won't fail this task. Another bucket, and then another. I continue until they are all empty. He smiles at me as I approach him and when I stop he brings his hands to my waist.

“Let me undress you, lilla varg.” His hands disappear under my loose-fitting shirt as he searches for the strings at my trousers. Now I am the impatient one; growing annoyed when he takes a little too long, his fingers lingering at my waist and slipping inside the fabric to probe at my folds. He groans as he finds the wetness there and I have to force a gasp back down.

“Focus.” I chide. He grumbles a little but he knows better than to ruin this moment for me.  He retracts his warm, large hand and pulls my pants down in one swift movement. Ivar holds my waist as I step out of them, a flash of a tender look in his eyes as he makes sure that I keep my balance. As soon as I'm completely free of the trousers he helps me discard the shirt.

“Your turn.” I murmur, grabbing at his clothes without knowing where to start; couldn’t they all just be torn away at once? He tugs at me and I follow his directions, ending up straddling him and holding on to the armrests of the chair. He slides the vest down from his shoulders and I take it from him, burying my nose in it and taking in his scent. When we first met after I had been freed from my cell, he smelled primarily of fir wood. Now he almost always smell of smoke and different fruits as well; courtesy of the fires he lights to keep me warm and of the fruits that we feed each other. His shirt falls to the floor as well and I instinctively press a palm to his sculpted chest. He chuckles at me when he sees the way my pupils blow wide. 

“Get into the bath, lilla varg.” It is tempting to just stay there, pawing at his muscles, but the temptation of bathing in blood with him is even stronger. I leave my crutches leaning against the tub and hold on tightly to the edge, carefully lifting one leg over it. My feet disappear under the surface, one at a time, and I grunt in relief as I sink into the tub. There’s a dragging noise as Ivar approaches and I lace my fingers together at the edge, resting my head there and enjoying the way his muscles move as he closes in on me. He pulls himself up so that our faces are only inches apart. I cup his face again and bring him in for a kiss. He groans as my tongue teases at the bitemark I had left there earlier.

“You need to move if you want me to join you.” He reminds me once we pull apart. I curl up at the end of the tub, giving him as much space as possible. Ivar lands a bit too carelessly and some of the blood splatters my face. I’m occupied trying to rub it away so that I’ll be able to see and just as I open my eyes I see Ivar right in front of me, a crazed look decorating his features. He snakes his arms around me and turns me around, pulling me onto his lap.

“Så fager.” He murmurs into my hair. Ivar’s hands slide down my sides and every kiss he plants on my cheek sets my skin on fire. His voice is barely more than a whisper.

“Do you want me to go slowly?” I answer with a moan and squirm further back so that my back is pressed flush against his chest. He smiles against my bloodied skin, right before digging his fingers into my sides and bucking his hips up.

“Or should I just push you down on my cock and take you?” He purrs.

“Take your time, krigaren min.” I am ready for him, have been so ever since I slit the first throat, but we have all the time in the world and I want to savour each of his touches, have him spill in me as many times as he can. It is possible that his seed already has taken root but I certainly don’t mind increasing the chances. _Ett barn av blod och styrka_. He turns me so that I’m facing him and I see how heavy his eyelids are; a sure sign of his arousal. On instinct, I dip my fingers in the blood and then lift them to his forehead. I draw one of the marks that he has taught me, the one meaning that he is a warrior. He lets out a content sigh and after a brief moment of hesitation I add another mark; one for fertility. If he can feel what I’m drawing, he doesn’t say anything. My arm falls back to my side and Ivar leans down, taking my nipple into his mouth and making a pleased noise as he finds it already hardened. I bury a hand in his hair and smile to myself; thinking about how this will be the start of a new life, en ny dag.

**Author's Note:**

> WORDS / PHRASES
> 
> Vargen och krigaren - The wolf and the warrior  
> Sluta - Stop it  
> Lilla varg - Little wolf  
> Min älskade krigare - My beloved warrior  
> Du fryser - You're freezing  
> Ja - Yes  
> Krigaren min - Warrior of mine  
> Älskade - Beloved  
> Så fager - So beautiful  
> Ett barn av blod och styrka - A child of blood and strength  
> En ny dag - A new day


End file.
